


'Til the veins run red and blue

by galexiesx



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Hospital, Anal Sex, Cheating, Doctors!AU, M/M, Oral Sex, not really tho, slight!Kim Jongin| Kai/Zhang Yixing, slight!angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galexiesx/pseuds/galexiesx
Summary: Kim Jongin is a young ambitious doctor but everyone has skeletons in their closets.





	'Til the veins run red and blue

**Author's Note:**

> So I have been watching a lot of Grey's anatomy lately and I couldn't really help myself.  
> Title is taken from Lorde's 400 Lux.

It is quarter to eight and Jongin is antsy. He can't help clicking the pen he's so vigorously grasping, his fingers are restless. It's no big deal, he tells himself. And it isn't but if it isn't then why does it feel like his heart will leap out of his chest any second now?

Jongin's phone is vibrating in the pocket of his white coat. There is a trauma coming to the E.R., two children and a woman. He is almost ready to push the intern by his side away along with the coffee she just brought him in a white paper cup.

And be it any other day rush to do E.R. he would. But today is different.

His entire world collapses on itself when the elevator lets out the most ordinary _ding_. There is a phone ringing in the nurses station. In fact, one of the nurses, the one wearing babypink scrubs, is asking him something. He can hear both, but he doesn't really register any of it.

Too bad, the center of his universe, from head to toe clad in black just gets off the elevator.

He has half the mind to mutter something about paging someone else from peds but he isn't even listening to himself.

It's such a paradox. He's here to take care of much more important business than the primary needs his subconsciousness forces him to seek. And he's so good at that. But, as it goes, a human weakness weighs somewhat more.

And no operation in the world can make his hands shake like Oh Sehun can when he looks at him like Jongin is the sweetest treat ready for him to devour.

The corners of his mouth twitch. It's been a couple of months since they last saw each other and it doesn't take long for the familiar ache to take over. The tall doctor stops several steps away, like he couldn't keep his hands to himself if he came just a centimetre closer.

"Dr. Kim," Sehun nods his head in a greeting, eyes watching him too closely, too intimately.

It probably doesn't matter. The entire hospital knows about them, the word travels fast around here.

Jongin feels like breaking the pen he's gripping in half. His mouth is too dry to say anything. Maybe he should have told him not to come this time.

But Jongin is tired of denying himself things he craves just because other people lay their dirty hands on everything that catches their eye.

He clears his throat.

"Dr. Oh."

 

* * *

 

There is a siren going off somewhere on the street. And Jongin would much rather spend the careless hours of his day, that he doesn't spend in the hospital, snoozing beneath covers. Too bad, he is hypersensitive to any kind of sound that goes above the average volume.

He rolls onto his stomach.

The silky white sheets are chilling against his skin. Mornings bring an unwelcomed coldness this part of the year. Furthermore, there is an empty spot beside him, Sehun's covers pooling around Jongin's ankles when he feels around for his presence with his feet.

Confused, with sleep heavy on his mind he rises, bracing himself on his elbows, rubbing on his eyes with the heel of his palm.

The French door to the balcony is wide open. No wonder he's been freezing.

It's still early, Sehun's room is bathed in soft pinks and goldens of the sunrise. Maybe they should have gone to Jongin's place rather than a rented hotel room. Maybe they could have, did Jongin not live with a bunch of interns.

The murmur of Sehun's voice buzzes through the silence. He's on the phone again. He's been getting calls ever since they got out of the hospital last night. Something about flower decoration or catering or a guest list. Jongin has to fight the urge to roll his eyes just thinking about it.

Jongin practically passed out couple of hours earlier with Sehun's lips still against his damp nape. They could barely keep hands off each other on the way home. Sehun almost blew him in the parking lot.

And then they got here and there were no unwanted eyes watching what wasn't theirs to watch in the first place.

Jongin sits up, wrapping himself in the covers. He leans over the edge of the bed to pick up his jeans and pull his phone from his back pocket. It's almost dead. Good thing he had the night off. He doesn't even want to think about how lousy and irresposible he always gets with Sehun.

Because Jongin spends almost everyday in those halls, in those ORs, between those people, doing what he's the best at. And what he does isn't duty. He loves what he does. He relishes the adrenaline, the thrill that naturally collides with saving a human life. Jongin was trained to sustain the pressure and stress that comes with it.

He feels more at home with a scalpel in his hand than with a person by his side.

But with Sehun within an arm's reach he's bound to get sloppy. And letting his needs and weaknesses get in the way of his excelence makes him so miserable, it's a tricky business being with Sehun.

He's frowning so hard he can literally feel the wrinkle on his forehead when Sehun leans against the doorframe. His hair is so disheveled and he's wearing a fresh pair of boxers and the only thing that comes to Jongin's mind with that realization is that he wants to take them off and pull him back to bed.

"Was that her?" He can almost hear the bitterness in his tone. It's bizzare.

"The dress doesn't fit."

Jongin goes silent. He doesn't care. He's never liked Yoseong. Not when they were residents and Sehun introduced them and not now when they're gonna be married in a couple of weeks.

Jongin's well aware that this is Sehun's last visit before tying the knot. Might be the last visit, well, ever.

It makes his stomach feel funny, twitch with anxiety and he doesn't want to think about what that means.

"I don't want to talk about her anymore," Jongin straightens, covers sliding off his bare shoulders, revealing his torso. "Besides," he raises his chin, waiting for Sehun to come closer, "there are other things you need to take care of," he says, guiding the younger's hand towards his crotch, slowly rolling his hips against him.

"Oh baby, that can be arranged."

 

* * *

 

  
Jongin's in the middle of devouring his avocado salad when Chaeyon flops onto the seat next to him. The cafeteria is getting full this time of a day. Yet, he was still hoping to have his lunch in peace. As it now proves very naive.

Chaeyon looks like she's going to explode, the apples of her cheeks are dusted with pink and her eyes are practically sparkling with excitement. She buries her face in her small palms, sighing deeply before she leans a little closer to whisper, "I just had a valve replacement with Oh Fucking Sehun."

_Figures._

"He's so good. And I mean _so_ good. He is like... like the God of cardiothoracic surgery. I've never witnessed anything like it."

She shuts up for a moment, mouth gaping as the aforementioned cardio miracle enters the cafeteria.

Sehun's eyes immediately seek Jongin's, corner of his mouth shooting up before turning around and going on with his day. The dark scrubs compliment his pale skin. Jongin wants to suffocate on his stupid vegetables.

"I've seen better," Jongin says.

Chaeyon must have snatched his watter bottle somewhere in the process of Jongin ogling Sehun too much, as Jongin finds it in her hands when he finally looks back at her.

She scratches at the edge of the label before peeling it off and then pressing it back into its place. Her hands are so damn tiny, it's ridiculous, and fairly useful, considering she's training in fetal surgery.

"He looks so hot even in the scrubs. Have you seen his ass? It's flawless. People like him shouldn't be allowed."

Jongin is somewhat aware.

 

* * *

 

Back when Sehun and Jongin just finished their residency, the former took Jongin to The Seychelles. Ten days spent by the sea, in a rented villa right by the shore.

It's no secret that Sehun is, well,  _loaded_. He comes from a family full of surgeons and doctors, it runs in his blood.

The whole vacation sort of melts, edges of Jongin's memory softening with time. It's a blur of messing in the water, and sunbathing and having sex nonstop. Be it on the white leather couch in the lounge, in the pristine white sheets of their bedroom or on the beach covered in sunlight. (Jongin has had the unfortunate misadventures with sand in all the wrong places. He had to find out the hard way.)

As it turned out, Sehun apparently looks even more gorgeous with a little bit of tan. With thick lashes framing dark eyes and the sweetest pair of pink lips he almost made Jongin forget that he just took a job across the country.

For when they got back Sehun's fellowship in Seoul could begin.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Jongin doesn't do relationships.

Jongin does success and Jongin does perfection. He dedicates his entire being to achieve what he wills and desires. It just so happens that his goals are usually situated in O.R.s, rather than in his private life.

Jongin doesn't do relationships. It simply isn't in his nature. He is like the sun. He burns people that get too close. Willingly or not, it is bound to eventually happen.

The closest Jongin's ever got to a relationship is the sick little arrangement they have with Sehun. And that has been going on for so long he barely remembers how it started. They were interns, that's what he knows for sure.

Maybe they just needed a mere distraction. Or a soul that would understand everything their young innocent eyes got to see. And then they got tangled in a mess of secrets and lies and Jongin doesn't even recall the last time he's been honest with someone about Sehun, least of all himself.

But that's a can of worms he doesn't want to open.

Sehun flies down to Busan every once in a while to visit, to consult on a case that any other doctor could, but Oh Sehun truly is the best, isn't he? And everytime Jongin sees him off and forswears him like it's a New Year's resolution and he's getting rid of cigarettes.

Pointless to say, two months go by and Sehun is back. And as Sehun comes Jongin's determination goes like it was never here in the first place.

Because Jongin gets weak and he craves and he longs for Sehun like a cat in heat.

It doesn't change the fact that when Sehun isn't around, Jongin's got others keeping his bed warm.

And it would be foolish to assume that Sehun is any different.

 

* * *

 

 

  
Oh Sehun is a talented surgeon. Gifted, so so good at everything he does. He has a reputation for a reason, one that goes beyond his family name.

Oh Sehun is a generous lover, as well.

He and Jongin are of the same kind. Maybe to the point that it's a little narcissistic to ache for one another the way they do. It's a curious thing, the two of them.

The mattress in the On Call Room is softer than Jongin remembers. He never sleeps there, unless, of course Sehun is there. And then there isn't as much _sleeping_  to do.

It dips beneath their weight, Jongin's elbows slipping on the covers. He can't even remember the last time he was this nervous around someone.

With other people it's easy. It's just a fog of arousal and his needs, chasing his release in the rush of the moment and once he reaches it, the adventure comes to an end.  
  
But Oh Sehun truly is something else.

He loves Jongin like a man dying of thirst. Like Jongin is his personal oasis and he's gonna kick the bucket if he has to go one more second without him. Like he can never get enough. That most likely goes both ways.

He has the special ability to get Jongin shaking in anticipation beneath his hands, trembling with want and greed for more. Or maybe (with a fair share of imagination) with something akin to love.

And so it always feels like this. Every time he's with Sehun, he's jittery like this. Like everytime is his first time and the fact that they're both aware of it makes it oh, so much worse.

Jongin arches his back, almost biting down on the pillow as Sehun effectively fucks him with his tongue.

He _loves_ getting eaten out and Sehun's only ever so nice to let him have a treat.

Sehun pulls away, fingers gripping Jongin's asscheeks, stretching him open to have more access and also because Jongin's face gets the prettiest shade of pink when the cool air meets his exposed hole and he can practically _feel_  Sehun's eyes on him.

He mewls, like a kitty in distress when Sehun's thumb strokes up and down his dampness. He's so so hard and so so close that he would have laughed at himself had he been in a different situation.

"So pretty for me," Sehun tsks, pushing the pad of his thumb against the tight ring of muscle, only a little, perhaps to drive Jongin insane. As if they both weren't already going bat shit crazy.

"Let me come," he breathes, desperation clear in his voice.

Sehun snickers behind him, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the inside of his thighs. He's familiar with all of Jongin's sensitive spots. "Say the magic word, angel."

He hates how smug Sehun sounds but he really, really wants to climax. Swallowing his pride, Jongin presses his face harder against the rough surface of the pillow, "Please."

And then things take a familiar turn.

Sehun's name's turning into a prayer, worship, it's a mantra on Jongin's lips, one he's known for eternity. And an orgasm feel somewhat sweeter when there is Sehun by his side, kissing against the pulse on his throat while Jongin's coming down.

"You should come to Seoul with me."

It's said in the gleam of an afterglow. Sehun always says the craziest things after sex. When they're just lazing around, tired kisses pressed against each other's clavicles, numb fingers running through each other's hair.

Jongin chuckles.

"You want me to come _there_?"

Maybe not such a great idea. The last time Jongin's been to Seoul with Sehun didn't go so well. And after what Jongin pulled at the Oh-Park Fundraiser last year, he's been _resolutely_  asked not to visit anymore.

Sehun's quiet for a minute. He was the one who requested Jongin to lay low. Change of heart, huh.

"You'd love it," he whispers, lips quivering against his shoulderblade. "I have this patient, a seven year old girl, she could use someone as good as you looking into her case."

Jongin finally turns around, facing his lover. Sehun looks lovely in the dim lights, hair messy and lips red from their previous ministrations. "It's cold in Seoul."

"I know ways to keep you warm," Sehun grins.

"I bet."

 

* * *

 

 

There is an annual Fundraiser held by Sehun's family. It's one of the most prestigious events of the year. Mostly surgical aristocracy, elite, the best of the best and dozens of sponsores.

How a very skittish Jongin found himself there last year, fingers trembling with anxiety, is a great question. He was surrounded by legends, surgeons that inspired him to practice medicine in the first place.

And he had yet to find Sehun.

He'd warned Jongin that these things get a little barbaric. Everybody wanted their project funded, their hospital supported.

But Sehun's been shaking stranger's hands for eternity now. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the youngest member of Oh family is his parent's pride, a flawless son of flawless ancestors.

Except Sehun brought his secret sweetheart to the single most important gathering of his family's foundation.

It was a slippery slope, from the beginning to the end. Jongin's had been in his element, smiling and selling his ideas, meeting people he's been dreaming of his entire life.

And then, just when Sehun rushed to Jongin and asked him to leave with him right away, an urgent plead in his eyes, the big news was announced. With a round of applause and people seeking Sehun's eyes like he was the main event, peak of the night.

That's how Jongin found out about his lover's engagement. With a lovely, pretty Yoseong who has no idea what an aorta means.

He felt like throwing up, bile collecting at the back of his throat. He almost knocked down a tray of empty champagne glasses when he took a step back from Sehun, handsome and perfect in his stupid tuxedo.

And it was a tragic look, it really was. He looked like he wanted to take care of Jongin and explain himself. Sehun's parents had other plans, though. They had just raised their glasses in Sehun's direction and that was a cue for the host to make a toast. What a shame.

Jongin should have left but midnight rolled around and he'd probably had one drink too many, because his head was spinning and he didn't trust his legs that much either.

And then Sehun found him, shaking palms against the sides of Jongin's face with a silent apology still warm on his lips, pecking Jongin's temples, an offering of remorse. Unwanted witnesses be damned when Jongin's heart was breaking in his ribcage.

Funny thing, with Sehun healing hearts and all.

The secret was revealed.

Too bad.

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun drops the news like it's no big deal.

They're quiet when he says it, both in the middle of scrubbing out, scrub caps still on their heads, hands raw from soap and cold water.

The surgery wasn't as successful as they have hoped. The body still lays in the O.R., out of sight under the sheet.

"Yoseong is pregnant," Sehun says.

_Oh._

Jongin's world comes to a halt for a second.

It's an abrupt calling of reality, reminding them that there are greater things coming, things far more meaningful than the little game they've been playing for so long now.

And Jongin knows this is it. This is Sehun's way of saying that there will be no further visits, no more rushed encounters at the back seat of Sehun's Maserati, no more messages in the middle of the night.

It's grotesque. Sehun has already made up his mind, yet he watches Jongin's reaction like it's gonna change anything.

But Sehun's little trip is coming to an end. And in a year's time there is going to be a wife and a child waiting for him at home.

There is going to be a big house with an immense fireplace and there is going to be a warm dinner in a perfectly organized dining room with placemats and whatnot. There is going to be a dog barking by his feet when he comes home to his family.

Jongin isn't stupid. He doesn't expect Sehun to trade it for a couple of sleepless nights, for an impulse-driven urge that burns everything in its path.

He would never demand it.

With soreness spasming through his core, he's ready to say something but his phone rings, he's being paged. The door is slammed open and a team of very confused and very sweaty looking interns come running in.

They don't even have time to explain themselves, the message on Jongin's phone is clear.

"Bring two units of O-neg and run him through a CT. Page me when the scans are ready," he dictates, "Somone page Zhang, I want a neuro consult on this."

The group just stares at him, mouths gaping. They look like a herd of very dumb sheep.

"Move! Are you waiting for him to die or what," he raises his voice, taking his cap off and shoving it into his pocket. They seem to get the hint this time. "Idiots. How am i supposed to do my job when there is a bunch of amateurs sabotaging every step I take?" he sighs, running his hands through the water one more time.

"Jongin," Sehun says, softly, with too much love in the word.

"I heard you. And that's amazing for you. Congratulations. You're gonna make a magneficent dad, Sehun. You are but if you excuse me now, I have a patient."

Later that night, when Jongin's shift is over and he finds Sehun waiting for him in the Attending's lounge, the worrying reality of what's about to come somewhat doesn't weigh as much as it seemed.

Jongin aches and Jongin needs and Sehun makes it all up to him, maybe save for the bittersweet taste at the back of his mouth. That's probably gonna stick around for a while.

Nevertheless, Jongin face is pressed against the cool shower tiles when Sehun fucks him under the stream of steaming hot water.

How do they say it? Old habits die hard.

 

* * *

 

 

Zhang Yixing is the head of neuro. He's patient and his hands are skilled. Whether it's in the O.R. or behind close doors.

It's such a coincidence that they all meet in the trauma room one fateful afternoon. Couple of people come in after a car crash and Jongin just so happens to take in a teenage boy who needs both, cardio _and_  neuro consult.

The recognition of their situation, of the relations they have, hangs in the air.

In this hospital it's basically a general knowledge that Kim Jongin often seeks shelter in the arms of the chief of neuro. Sehun knows, too. Even though he's mostly a guest in Busan. Soon, he won't be even as much.

And as it has been progressively turning out, none of them, neither Jongin nor Sehun, are good with words. Actions are easier, they know each other better than they know themselves.

Sehun is only human too, and just so it proves that maybe he's been around for a little too long when he throws hands with the chief of neurosurgery right by the main entrance of the hospital.

 

* * *

 

 

On Friday night Sehun takes him in a toilet stall in the bar across the street from the hospital. It's fast and dirty and Sehun's hands press purple bruises into the back of Jongin's thighs when he hoists him up.

They're so aggressive, it's as though they're expressing everything that cannot be said, through their bodies, like there is no reason to hold back anymore, like there is no promise of a next time, which might as well be true.

Sehun's brows are furrowed and there is a sheen of sweat across his skin that makes him look a little more mundane. Jongin licks it off the curve of his neck.

When Jongin comes with an embarassingly high pitched whine, they are not even kissing. They are just gasping and sobbing into each other's mouths, foreheads pressed together as Sehun thrusts up into Jongin's pliant body.

It's good. It's so so good that Jongin almost doesn't even think that it tastes like an adieu.

 

* * *

 

 

Jongin drives him to the airport.

They don't cry, they don't inevitably say goodbye. They never once said goodbye, why start now. They kiss, though, like they always do when Sehun travels back home. It's all tongue and teeth, too harsh and rough, like they don't know any other way.

Jongin's insides burn with emotion but he doesn't say anything. His throat is convulsing around tears he hasn't shedded, tears he's not gonna shed. He's a big boy and the show must go on.

Sehun flies back to Seoul that day. Jongin doesn't hear from him.

 

* * *

 

  
It happens a couple of months later, when Jongin receives an unexpected call from Byun Baekhyun, the head of cardio in Seoul. He and Sehun have been at each other's throats for so long, it's hard to keep count. It's actually kind of funny, considering that Baekhyun is Sehun's boss.

Jongin operates on a young girl with a heart defect and it goes, oh so, so well. He is always on such a high after a succesful surgery. Somedays he thinks it's the only thing that keeps him going, adrenaline running through his body like his favourite drug.

Sehun has it like that too, and everything is forgotten when he sweeps everything off his desk, including his and Yoseong's framed picture, and bends Jongin over the dark wood, a pile of files collapsing beneath them.

He strips down, throwing his scrubs over his head and his lips find their place almost by instinct, sucking bruises into the skin of Jongin's neck.

And the balance of the world is restored once again.

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
